clasped hands showing struggle and hope in addiction recovery

Addiction has been written about so many times it almost risks becoming another statistic, another headline buried between political drama and celebrity gossip.

But it’s not abstract.

It’s lived, it’s daily, it’s painful.

And sometimes the voices that get heard most are the ones already wrapped up in a “success story”.

Which is fine, but also limiting.

I’m writing this not as a personal confession, but as someone who has spent years listening, observing, and, frankly, sitting with women who fought their way out of addiction or are still in the trenches.

Their stories matter.

Their anger matters.

And what people on the outside think they know?

Often it’s way off the mark.

So, here are six things that people in recovery (especially women, but not only) want the world to understand.

1. Nobody “chooses” to become addicted

Let’s be real: nobody wakes up one morning and thinks, yes, perfect day to destroy my life with meth.

It’s not how it happens.

Addiction is slippery.

Sometimes it’s experimental.

College parties, curiosity, a prescription for anxiety meds after a breakup that spirals.

Other times it’s cultural, even casual.

A drink at the family barbecue, a glass of wine at every networking event, the “you deserve this” narrative pushed by ads.

And here’s the paradox: one person can take a pill, sip tequila, and walk away untouched, while another is hooked before they even realize what’s happened.

It’s not about willpower.

It’s biology, psychology, and plain bad luck colliding.

When the CDC recently reported overdose deaths topping 100,000 in a single year in the U.S., it underscored something we still struggle to face: addiction doesn’t discriminate.

2. Hurting people was never the intention

A common thread I’ve heard again and again is the guilt.

Women especially carry it heavy.

A mom missing her kid’s recital, a friend skipping out on rent, someone screaming at her sister because withdrawal made her skin feel like it was crawling off.

The outside world sees betrayal.

Inside, it was survival.

Drugs or alcohol (or both) rewired the brain so thoroughly that choices were no longer choices in the normal sense.

That doesn’t erase the damage caused, but it does explain why so many women in recovery say: I wasn’t trying to hurt you.

I was trying not to collapse inside my own skin.

It’s brutal.

It’s messy.

And no pep talk from family could have snapped them out of it.

Treatment and professional support were the only real lifeline.

3. Constant reminders of “the past” don’t help

Recovery is already haunted by memory.

The weight of bad decisions, lost time, money wasted, people gone.

Women I’ve spoken with describe walking into group sessions where people brought up “remember when you…” like it was gossip.

It stings, it distracts.

The truth?

Moving forward is the only workable option.

Yes, amends have to be made.

Yes, ownership matters.

But dragging up the wreckage again and again, it’s like forcing someone to live in a burned-down house instead of helping them rebuild.

I once heard a woman compare it to being a phoenix that people insist should stay buried in the ashes.

The fire already happened; stop pointing at the soot.

4. There’s still a person underneath

Labels are brutal.

“Addict”. “Drunk”. “Junkie”.

Quick, sharp words that stick to someone’s skin like glue.

But beneath them, underneath the disease, there is always a person.

Dreams don’t vanish just because heroin enters the bloodstream.

Desires, regrets, faith, humor, they don’t disappear.

They just get buried.

A friend of mine told me she used to stare at herself in the mirror mid-binge, mascara streaked, hair in knots, and whisper “you’re still in there”.

It’s haunting.

But she was right.

When she got sober, her love for painting returned, her laugh sounded different but familiar, and she remembered she once wanted to visit Italy.

Addiction is a thief, yes.

But it doesn’t erase the blueprint of a person’s soul.

5. Sobriety doesn’t mean the struggle ends

Here’s the thing: recovery is not a single event.

It’s not the end credits of a movie with inspirational music swelling.

It’s daily.

It’s exhausting.

It’s one wrong turn away from collapse.

Relapse is common.

And devastating.

One woman relapsed after five years clean because a “harmless” glass of champagne at a wedding snowballed.

She said the shame was worse than the hangover.

But here’s the flip side: struggle doesn’t mean failure.

It means vigilance is forever part of the package.

Meetings, sponsors, therapy sessions, prayer journals, whatever tools people use, they use them constantly.

Like keeping an umbrella in the car even on sunny days because storms are unpredictable.

6. Support is not optional, it’s survival

This one can’t be overstated.

Love and support are oxygen.

Without it, recovery suffocates.

Families, friends, coworkers, even online communities can make the difference between relapse and resilience.

And support doesn’t have to look grand.

Sometimes it’s sitting in silence when cravings hit.

Sometimes it’s sending a meme at midnight because the day was hard.

Sometimes it’s refusing to enable but still holding space.

Globally, millions still lack access to treatment.

The United Nations just reported a staggering treatment gap for women especially, many face stigma that keeps them from even seeking help.

So if you are someone who can be supportive, please don’t underestimate the impact.

Recovery is never neat.

It’s jagged, it doubles back, it stalls.

It’s also luminous in ways people rarely describe.

Someone once said “the opposite of addiction isn’t sobriety, it’s connection”.

Those words have stuck with me.

So if you know someone navigating this road, remember these six truths.

They didn’t choose it, they don’t want to hurt you, they’re more than their past, they’re still themselves, the fight never ends, and they need your support.

And maybe next time the news cycles through another grim overdose statistic, instead of dismissing it as “just another number”, pause and think of the woman behind it – the laughter she had, the child she raised, the art she might have created if the world had understood sooner.

Because recovery is possible.

But it’s fragile, and it depends on all of us not looking away.
 
 
 
Tags: addiction recovery, women in recovery, support for addicts, relapse prevention, addiction awareness, family and addiction, recovery journey, understanding addiction, sobriety struggles, DL008

 

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